


Quiet

by blahblahwahwah



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Hot Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Kissing, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-04-30 08:14:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5156615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blahblahwahwah/pseuds/blahblahwahwah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one's writing it so I am. </p><p>Oliver discovers ways in which Felicity can be quiet and decides he needs her to make more noise.<br/>What might have happened if Oliver & Felicity's first date didn't blow up in 3x01.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Front Porch

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anybody. I'm a pervert who imagines this couple in all sorts of compromising positions.
> 
> I got fed up searching for a first date that didn't blow up fic. So i decided to write it.

_"Do you remember when I told you that because of what we do, I didn't think that I could be with someone...that I...that I really care about?"_

_"Yeah, I remember."_

_"So...maybe I was wrong."_

 

For all the rambling that she does, Felicity's actually very good at being quiet.

Oliver has noticed.

When the stress and tension of a situation becomes unbearable - she goes quiet. She's extraordinarily perceptive about emotions - she retreats into the background whenever things get complicated between him and the others. She despises conflict - he knows because he sees it from the corners of his eyes, how she backs away whenever voices rise and tempers flare, hugging herself protectively.  It makes him feel like an asshole that he can't at least protect her from that negativity after he exposes her to all this violence and despair that comes with their mission.

But, she always hangs around, waiting at the sidelines for when she's needed. And, when it's time for her to step in - come away from the periphery and step into the foreground, she's takes charge without even realizing it.

Felicity goes silent when she offers solace.

Also -

\- when she's turned on.

 

 

Felicity was glowing that evening.

Which is saying a lot because her apparel is almost always glaring.

Her lipstick shades - almost bordering on fluorescent; those impossibly vivid nail colours - mismatchedly applied on purpose; dye-blonde hair  -  a blinding gold when she has had it touched up; clothes  - maybe never inappropriate, but certainly never subtle. (And, he wasn't even thinking about her short skirts.)

It took a mini-bribe and the 'Queen' name for him to get a reservation at this restaurant. It would have been sensible to eat at least one course.

But.

Watching her lips widen in that radiant smile, watching her subtle dimples appearing at the corners of her mouth, watching her blue eyes twinkle almost poetically with a peculiar look of relief mixed with joy - as though waiting for this moment had been a risk that did not go in vain - and watching her cheeks flush pink, makes Oliver want to grab her wrist and _go_ somewhere - anywhere - where they are alone.

Where it's just her.

And him.

 

 

Felicity rambled a little - then not so much, smiling shyly every now and then and Oliver felt pretty damn bashful too but wouldn't dare admit it to anyone. The waiter kept loitering about in the edge of his vision waiting for them to order food.

She ordered the pasta, he ordered the steak. The food went, for the major part, barely eaten.

He talked about Hong Kong, about Lian Yu, about the Queen's Gambit - about life before. 

She listened. Quietly. (She became unusually taciturn whenever he opened up about his past - and tonight was no different.) 

He was aware that she was watching him with an awed expression the whole night. Her eyes would sparkle with appreciation every time he joked or smiled unreservedly.

He felt - normal. (And. Even though he wasn't used to it, it was a feeling he certainly didn't mind.)

She declined dessert, and he was grateful for it, because he wanted nothing more than to just walk her home...like normal couples did - on a first date. 

(Except, they had to take a cab, because she didn't live nearby  - and yes, that felt normal enough, too).

When he laughed out loud at something silly the cab driver said, she looked at him in wonder. As though she was seeing a new person who was familiar at the same time.

Oliver felt the same way about himself. It amazed him, how human he became around her; how human he _felt_ (and not like a goddamn prisoner living under the weight of his decisions every fucking minute).

"So," He sighed, once they were at her front door. He dropped his bag on the side while she fetched her keys from her clutch purse.

"Yep." She said, awkwardly.

There was awkwardness - strange because it _was_ them and not so strange because it was _them._

(Awkwardness was normal for first dates, right?)

He looked at the door facing hers and decided to go with small talk. "Is your neighbour home?"

Felicity glanced towards the neighbour's door, rolled her eyes and remarked. "Yeah, unless her cat took off. Then she's at my home looking for it."

Oliver chuckled (because he wanted to. Because...this whole thing felt so normal.)

"Nah, she's alright." Felicity said, sweetly. Her keys jangled around her thumb when she stabbed it towards her front door. "Would you - like to come in?"

He smiled at her warmly and said, "No."

He watched her shy smile fade a little. "Oh." She said, the disappointment evident.

He didn't feel badly about his decision. This was Felicity - he was _not_ going to screw this up.

"Coffee or a beer?" She said, looking away. "It doesn't have to be anything more."

"It's - uh..." He grinned widely and looked at his shoes when he spoke. "It's not that I don't want to - it's just...I promised myself I'd be a gentleman tonight." He looked up at her face. "Take it slow."

She clamped her lips together in an understanding smile and nodded.

In the incadescent glow of the front porch, Felicity looked about as radiant as she did when their date started. As alluring as she was, a simple kiss on the cheek - was all he would allow himself, maybe on the lips, if she permitted.

He could do chaste (- or so he thought.)

"I had fun." She said, with a small sigh. "It was - um - nice to...meet this way. Y'know. No arrows in people, no bad guys...no impending doom and all that."

"Yes." His voice dropped (and he agreed, wholeheartedly - it _was_ nice, to just be two people on a date). He reached for her hand and interlaced his fingers with her and said, "It was."

Her eyes fell on their intertwined hands, and she wiggled her fingers slowly, playing with his. The small movements captured his attention and filled him with warmth. The constant pain he lived with was abating little by little throughout the night and it was practically non-existent right that moment. He looked up at her, with a long sigh, feeling a little disappointed at having to wish her goodnight.

(But, he was as certain about his resolution as he would be. He had a whole life time of fuck-ups when it came to women and Felicity was - Felicity. She was sacred in ways that could not be explained.)

"I didn't say it before." He said, affectionately. "You look...nice."

"Thanks." She said, shaking her head as though brushing away the compliment.

He released her hand and stepped forward, leaning forward, wordlessly asking for permission with his eyes when he looked down at her lips. The corners of her mouth tweaked upwards and she tilted her chin.

Sure enough it was a chaste kiss. 

He pressed his mouth on hers, keeping his lips closed because he promised himself over and over again, that treating Felicity respectfully was how Felicity deserved to be treated even if she was already making it difficult for him not to give in to the lurking desire to seize her half-open mouth and soft lips and devour them. Through his half-open eyes he saw that her eyelids were closed gently. Her face was all peaceful.

(Oliver was pretty damn satisfied with his restraint.)

Telling himself it was the appropriate thing to do, he reluctantly broke the kiss. She lingered and sighed a little after he withdrew from her; her eyes remained closed, her face remained still with pleasure. Oliver noticed that her palm was tightly closed around the keys, her knuckles white from the intensity of her grip. He half-sighed, half-laughed, clasping her closed hand, gently rubbing his thumb over her wrist. Her grip relaxed as her eyes opened. Her mouth was half open in a smile. He eyes were shining in a away.

"So..." She said - her mouth lingering in a 'O' shape. Oliver had always thought her lips were always irresistibly inviting when she did that. "That happened." She said.

"Yeah." He chuckled.

He was about to say how glad he was that it did when she spoke. "Guess that bikini wax was for nothing." She blurted, pursing her lips and shrugging as she took a step back.

Oliver blinked.

Felicity's eyes went wide as soon as she said the words.

"Ah..." She whispered, as Oliver stared at her. "Damn."

 

('Damn' was right.

Damn Felicity and her sexy mouth.)

 

His dick twitched. Oliver felt a powerful surge of arousal while he stared at her, his mind burning with images of the possible way in which she'd be saying "Ah!" and none of them platonic. 

He released her hand. She glanced at her fist held in mid air and started to ramble. "Yeah. I probably shouldn't have said that. It doesn't mean anything, it's just..."

Her words arrested the second his hand cupped the back of her neck. And, Oliver allowed her one loud gasp of air, before he caught her lower lip between his teeth.

 

She fucking waxed - _there._ For him.

Done deal, as far as his manhood was concerned.

 

Felicity moans into his mouth, just as her arms slide up around his shoulders. Blood rushes south the instant he feels the hum of her moan against his lips. He pushes her back, reaching for the door with his other hand for support because - yeah - his dick has pretty much taken over the entire operation now and Oliver - he just - he just doesn't want to think about anything -

\- Except tasting her.

Felicity is all gasps and soft little moans that are making it tougher and tougher for him to think about anything except her.

When she presses her body up against his - the sensation of her breasts crushing up against his chest has him grab her ass and her groaning, opening her mouth wider. When she takes his tongue in, that has him losing his grip over the door and given that he's pretty much supporting them both with that arm, she stumbles backwards, taking him with her with their mouths locked until her back hits against the door and the back of Oliver's palm slams painfully against the door.

The weight of him crashing against her and the dull ache that shoots up his knuckles have them both break away with a husky "Ooph!" from her and  a simultaneous grunt from him.

(There's a subtle thud and a clanging sound - he doesn't need to look - he knows it. She's dropped the damn keys.)

Her face is flushed, her eyes pupils are blown wide and her lipstick's smudged all around the corners of her mouth. Oliver just watches her ragged breathing as she holds his gaze with those dark, dark eyes.  He splays the fingers of his hand trapped against her ass and clenches. Felicity gasps loudly and inadvertently pushes her head against the door, eyes rolling shut. He watches her bite down on her lower lip.

He wants more. 

He snakes his other hand around her waist and hoists her up against the door, bringing her neck to level with his face. Felicity instinctively rolls her head so he can mouth against the skin right under her ear. He nibbles against the skin gently and almost like a reflex, her legs wrap around his thighs.

"Fuck!" He growls; grinds up against her, sucks on her skin. She's breathing loudly against his ear and - damn, if that doesn't turn him on.

He lines his mouth up against her in a painfully slow, deep kiss. When he runs the tip of his tongue up against the roof of her mouth, Felicity's hands snap up and grab his hair. She digs her fingers into his scalp, opens her mouth over his and fights him back with her tongue. Oliver groans when her tongue licks his, he jerks his ass ramming his dick up against her front, roughly. He keeps squeezing her ass trying to get her hips to angle towards him. When her legs start to weaken and she slips down, he forces her hips to tilt up against him, and releasing her waist he slides his palm slowly to her thigh.

She lets out a long, protracted - but soft sigh. 

"Felicity." He groans, pushing his hand up under the skirt of her dress.

She doesn't reply. She's grabbing his face and kissing him lazily between broken breaths. Her fingers grabs his collar and start fumbling with the buttons. He's so fucking hard that he can barely reason how he's shoving her dress up right there on her front porch, outside her house - for all the street to view, grinding his pelvis against hers while he's at it.

 

(Fuck! She actually waxed for him.

He has to see for himself.)

 

 

Felicity lets out a muffled growl, arches her head back against the door when he slides his palm down the back of her thigh. She butterflies her leg out allowing him to reach the warmer inside of her thigh.

Oliver groans out loud when he feels the slick wetness on her underwear.

She's looking up at him with a dark expression in her eyes. Her lips are swollen and full. He can see red grazes along her chin and neck where his jaw rubbed against hers. She moans softly and closes her eyes, screwing up her eyebrows when his finger slips in the crease between her thigh and her panties. It's a pained and desperate plea on her part and he's compelled to answer. He hooks his thumb into the crotch of her panties and shoves them to one side insinuating his fingers over her. Felicity's moan mixes with a loud open mouthed gasp.

_Smooth as a baby's bottom. Just for him._

Oliver just caresses her skin - all silky smooth and hairless - looking at her face with his mouth parted, his breaths coming out in ragged pants that match hers. She winces and bites down on her lip periodically, and he continues teasing his fingers caught under her panties, until she opens her eyes.

When she does open those lust filled desire-ridden eyes - dark as the night, he roughly shoves his fingers between her soft and slick folds reaching for her clit.

Felicity makes a harsh, humming noise, her hand clamps on his shoulder. Oliver slips his arm to hold her waist to steady her and shoves his body weight onto her front, wedging her against the door in that position as he presses on the stiff little nub. Felicity drops her head into his shoulder and all he hears is the rasping whimpers in his ears.

He closes his eyes and takes in the sound - and yeah - his dick pulses heavily as he manipulates his fingers - but -  _that sound!_

Her. Aroused and panting for him - it's perfect.   

He kisses the crook of her neck and trails kisses up and down the side of her face as he pets her, he notices how her hips start to rotate gently, meeting the pressure of his hands. Oliver digs the heel of his palm over the mound above her sex roughly. He breaks his mouth away from her skin, purses his mouth as he slips his index finger into her.

Felicity cries out - softly. She throws her head back again, slack jawed, gaping at him like she can't believe he just did that.

Oliver gives her a smug grin and shoves his finger deeper till his knuckle is half in. She's so tight and wet at the same time that while his finger slips in with ease, her muscles clench all around him. Her eyelids fly shut and she winces, Oliver ducks his head so he can reach her lips and kisses her sloppily, licking the insides of her mouth as he thrusts his finger in and out. She's still kissing him as she begins rise up and down over his finger.

When he feels her clamp down around his finger, he adds another. She lets out a surprised noise that vibrates in his mouth. He sucks in her lower lip between his teeth - doesn't let her break the kiss. Felicity's upper lip clamps down on his mouth. Oliver pushes in his thumb and presses down on her clit as she begins to rise up and down, fucking his fingers.

She gasps against his lips when he adds pressure from his thumb. She cranes her neck, tugging his lip as she pulls away.

And he just - just watches her face in amazement.

Her eyes rolled upwards, her cheeks, pink, her hair is dishevelled, her swollen mouth parted and trembling with heavy breaths, moisture slick over her face giving it a sheen illumined with the glow of the porchlight that makes her look surreal.

His shorts are goner for sure, and Oliver has the thought in the back of his mind that the wetness seeping out from his primed dick is probably staining his pants and maybe her dress too. He grinds his erection against her stomach as he thrusts his fingers in and out, rubbing her clit in circular motions. She's driving down on his fingers with the pretty much comparable force with which he's taking her.

Oliver just watches the emotions flash on her face and thinks how much more of her he wants. He wants to see her naked - writhing under him. He wants to suck on her tits and wonders if she'll like it. His eyes drop to her chest, watching erect nipples straining against the fabric of her dress as she pushes her chest out when she fucks his fingers, the dip between the exposed part of her cleavage rising and falling. Oliver bends down and licks a stripe from the hollow in her throat to the valley between her breasts, sticking his tongue down underneath the neck of her dress. She trembles against in response.

He wants to bury his cock inside her and hear more than those quiet noises she's making now.

So very quiet.

He finds it amusing and bewildering all at once. He rakes his chin over her face and neck - licks and nibbles every now and then, feeling her squirm against him.

"Hey." He mumbles against the corner of her mouth. "Are you okay?"

She rolls her head up and down, nodding slowly, eyes closed in obvious pleasure. Her moans come out as strained and muffled sobs that match with her downward thrust. She rolls her head towards him to take his mouth with hers. She gives him short, breathy kisses - tugs on his lips as she continues to ride his fingers.

He knows she's close when her hands scratch up into the back of his head and she spasms over his hand. He pushes his thumb down over her clit hard. He grinds his hard-on against her rubbing himself against her feeling, his dick twitch furiously. She fists her hand in his short hair and digs the nails of the other hand into his shoulder and groans once breaking away from his lips and pressing her open mouth over his forehead. He wants to see her face but she's pressing his forehead to her mouth so tightly, he can feel her teeth against his skin.

She groans again, before one final jerk sending her ass forwards towards him. She throbs, he feels the slick wetness slide down from his fingers to his fist and her weight slumps down onto him as she comes down from her quiet orgasm.

So very quiet.

 

Felicity drops her face into his shoulder. She's panting hard against him.  Oliver keeps his fingers inside her feeling her hot release between his fingers. His dick is hard, throbbing and erect as a friggin' lamppost, pressed against her thigh. He gently pulls his hand out from underneath her legs, kissing the side of her face, letting her panties fall back in place.

Her thighs are still quivering feverishly when he palms over them in an attempt to soothe. He draws his head back and looks at her, concerned that he was too rough - too forceful and truth be told - he didn't exactly ask her permission before shoving her dress up in the front porch of her house and taking her with his hand.

_Fuck!_

They just did this _outside_ her house!

He snaps his head around while still holding onto her, craning his neck all around and heaves a huge sigh of relief when he realizes the street is empty and most of the curtains in the houses of the neighbourhood are drawn; while the rest of them have their lights off. He immediately yanks her dress down over her thighs and looks at her as she unwinds her legs and slides down, slowly. She releases his head, but keeps her arms on his shoulder. He can feel her weight buckling on him.

Her pupils are still dilated but her gaze his fixed on him.

The irony of this is not lost on him. One hand he tells her he wants to be a gentleman and on the other hand he's fingerfucking her on the front porch.

He wants more, so much more. But what if she doesn't?

"Felicity." He says, thickly. "Talk to me."

Her lips tremble when she reaches up to kiss him. An open mouthed, sloppy and definitely sexy kiss.

"Oliver..." She whispers, against his mouth, sighing longingly.

He almost fucking comes when she says his name like that.

"Could you..." She breathes against his mouth, words coming between gasps. "Could you...maybe be a gentleman some other day and... and come inside now?"

 

She means it both ways.

 

And he's happy to oblige.

 

 

 

 


	2. Inside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely compliments and the kudos and the bookmarks. I will personally reply to all later.  
> So....I spent like a week or more writing this. It is both POVs. Man voices are complicated to write. Heck - men are complicated in general.

 

_"It feels really good having you inside me... And by you...I mean your voice. And by me...I mean my ear."_

 

Felicity is horny.

There is no subtler way to put it.

And  - it _has_ to happen with her, that when she's about to have what promises to be mind-blowing sex with the man, whose beautifully chiselled, scarred, salmon ladder-climbing body she's fantasized over (and yeah, sure - she's probably hopelessly in love with), for the last two years - she can't find the darn keys!

Maybe she should make an active effort to look for it - she thinks, rather than magically wishing for it to appear in her hands, but that's the thing about his mouth -

 - his mouth is so... _damn_!

"Can't find the keys." She mutters against his lips. She feels Oliver smile against the corner of her mouth, before he pivots her in his arms. Felicity lets out a hushed whine; protesting the separation from his mouth at first, and then in reaction to the sensation she feels when her boobs are squished up against the door and what feels like Oliver's ginormous hard-on is pressed between her ass.

(Teeth grazing her the skin behind her ear lobe, his hands skimming over her waist, heavy breaths whispering over the crook of her shoulder, his hard chest pressed up against her back. His cock between her butt-cheeks.

She's wetter than before - and she didn't even know that was possible.)

Oliver's hand rides up over her bosom and he squeezes. She presses her lips together, muffling a moan as he grinds his arousal against her. She leans the side of her face against the door, flattens her palm over it for support, she drops her jaw and makes a squeaky noise ( and - yeah -she's pretty sure it's like the noises those girls in porn movies make);  Oliver pushes up against her further, kissing the back of her neck and shoulder. He glides his hands from her waist to her back.

Felicity swallows and bites down on her lower lip, feeling his calloused palms rub over the exposed upper back, down to her waist, over her dress. The sound of the zip, sliding down  - makes her suck her  breath in. For some reason, the sound of the metal scraping slowly whilst feeling her dress give way above her waist makes her throb in her ladyparts.

(well - not for _some_ reason _._ It's _Oliver._ )

She hums in response to the strange gratifying sensation over her skin from his rough hand sliding through the opened back of her dress towards the front of her rib cage. He manoeuvres his palm under the curve of her breast and lifts her breast just a little.

Her elbows snap straight, fingers splaying against the door - and Felicity jerks backwards arching her spine up against him...moaning.

She rolls the back of her head over his shoulder, licking her lips when his thumb sneaks up on her nipple, his knuckles straining under the bodice of her dress. She rubs her cheek against the stubble of his jaw and keeps doing it until his face tilts towards her and he opens his mouth over hers.

Felicity moans, reaches her tongue in - licks his. His mouth slackens more, allowing her to kiss him - lazily. She pirouettes her hips a little, pushing back against his cock grinding against her tush.

Felicity's free hand develops a mind of its own and decides it needs controls of the situation. Her forearm snakes backwards, she wedges her palm somehow between her ass and him, seeks out that hard bulge straining against the fly of his tailored pants and cups it.

(Now, Felicity's had her fair share of sex. And what -with his cock pushed up between her butt-cheeks like that  -? She knows he's up at a hundred percent.

But then again, this is Oliver Queen. Only he can have a hard-on and still take a challenge

Because that's what happens.)

His hips ram against her violently - and she loves it. A small but not unpleasant pain shoots through her lower lip when bites them involuntarily - and she loves it.

He draws back and hisses - and though she's not a big fan of the loss of contact - she loves that, too. (Through her hooded eyes, she sees that his face is flushed, his eyes are tightly shut - and boy! Does she love that sight!).

"Fuck! Felicity!" He growls, softly. "We're outside."

 _Oh yes! And it's amaaazing!_  She wants to say. (Except she can't bring the words out.)

Felicity smiles, knowing that he can't see how pleased she is and releases him, pulling her hand back.

The realization that he voices out loud doesn't seem to bother him, though. His large hand covers her breast, completely. She can feel her nipple trapped between the length of his fingers, his other hand snakes over the front of her waist holding her up against him, tighter. Felicity gasps with a brassy noise that comes from her throat.

"Do you want to do this here?" His voice is thick.

Oh yes. She does.

She should probably tell him to just lift up her dress and go for it. Take her like this - from behind. Let the whole friggin' street get an education.

A loud snarl followed by a meow catches her attention.

It is a little pathetic - Felicity thinks, inside her sex-crazed head, that she would know that sound anywhere.

(She's had her fair share of run-ins with the feline-from-hell whenever it saunters over to her house. The damn beast thinks it owns the neighborhood.)

And. Where Mrs. Fernand's cat meows audibly - Mrs. Fernand's ears (which Felicity's pretty convinced are secret cat-radars) pick up the sound no matter where she is or what she's doing.

She instantly lurches forward against her door. Oliver lets out a grunt of surprise, almost falling over her. He's awkwardly wedged her body against the door and his palm slides out of the bodice of her dress. Felicity turns around in his embrace, just in time to hear Mrs. Fernand's muffled voice calling out to the cat.

The first thing she's able to focus on in the midst of her aroused state - are his eyes. Dark as the night - with want - for her. There's maybe confusion written all over his face from the interruption. But. She can barely seen the blue in his irises.

She had only managed to get the top four of his shirt buttons off while he took her with his fingers. She rubs a comforting hand on his exposed chest (well - the intention is more to touch it and enjoy the feel of his hard muscles - but comfort works as a reason, too.)

Right now, Felicity wants to unzip his pants and grab his cock. She even thinks about giving Mrs. Fernand a show for a second.

"Felicity." He says, hesitantly."Are you...?"  He can't complete.

Sure enough, the sound of a door latch clicking open has his attention. Oliver's head jerks around just as Mrs. Fernand opens the door.

"Shit!" He exclaims, keeping his front towards Felicity, hiding that glorious tent pitched in his pants from the old lady as she comes out.

"Ah! Felicity dear!" Mrs. Fernand pipes up, squinting at her. "Good evening."

The hag isn't wearing her glasses. Good. She maybe won't notice their compromising positions.

Felicity places her palms on Oliver's shoulder, drawing his eyes back towards her. He looks so adorable when he's like this - all confused and fully aroused. She gives him a sly smile, running up her hands to his shirt collar to straighten it and then hugs his waist to cover him.

"Good evening, Mrs. Fernand." Felicity croaks with a choky voice (yeah - because she's not been able to speak for the last half-hour or so), still looking up at Oliver (because he's covering her view).

The corners of his mouth are tilted upwards amusedly. Oliver reaches for the zip of her dress and the draws it up slowly, his intense gaze locked on hers. She gives him a sexy smile when he rests his hands against her ass.

"Did you see my..." Mrs. Fernand starts to say, but Felicity pops her head around Oliver's shoulder and interjects.

"There he is!" Felicity says, pointing to the pug-faced-cat-from-hell that's lounging over the door mat.

Oliver suddenly ducks down, making it Felicity's turn to be confused. Mrs. Fernand chatters away, completely oblivious to Oliver' presence or the fact the there's a man in a grey suit bending down in front of her with his shapely butt faced towards Mrs. Fernand.

(Felicity wants to smack his tush - because, she can).

When he rises up, he completely obscures Mrs. Fernand and fills Felicity's field of view.  (And she doesn't mind - because, he is a _grreat_ view to have.)

She beams at him - a smile he returns.

"It's a warm night, isn't it?" Mrs. Fernand was saying. "What is that young man doing?"

Felicity's mouth opens to answer, but then she's not sure what she's supposed to say. ( _Going to fuck my brains out, hopefully_ \- sounds terribly inappropriate.)

Oliver cranes his neck around. Felicity watches his jaw twitch the way it does whenever he gives his most charming grin. He half turns his body. Felicity watches with amazement that he's magically procured her keys (well maybe not so magically - given that he just bent down to retrieve them) and he's waving them for Mrs. Fernand.

"Just helping Felicity with her keys, Ma'am." He says in a suave _Hi, I'm Oliver Queen_ tone.

Mrs. Fernand eyes him suspiciously and then wiggles her index finger at him. "In my day, a fella' just left it with a goodnight kiss on the cheek. Now, you be a gentleman, you hear?"

"Oh, believe me." He says with a sigh. He turns his head to look at her and says softly. "I'm _trying_."

She pouts. ( It's ridiculous. Just a few seconds ago he was - pretty fucking much undressing her while they're frottaging on her front porch. And he wants to play gentleman - like - _now?_ )

"Try another night." Felicity huffs and reaches for the keys.

He pulls his hand back, raises his eyebrows at her, gazing at her meaningfully - before he reaches for her lock.

 

 

It is commendable, Oliver thinks, that he hadn't already blown his load. He is painfully erect. They're fused to each other's fronts, rubbing up and down each other, kissing unabashedly as they stumble inside. He shoves the door shut behind him and allows her to line up against him with her small body.

Her breathing is more frantic. Soft sweet moans intersperse with brassy little gasps. He smiles against her mouth when she goes for his jacket. He opens his arms out as she slides it off his shoulders. It gets stuck at his elbows and Oliver chuckles when she starts grumbling against his mouth, her small fingers repeatedly jabbing into the lining, trying to get the lapels off.

He breaks the kiss, keeping his eyes connected with hers, giving her a teasing look. She pouts (and _fuck_ \- ! If that doesn't make him want to bite her mouth again), releases his arms, letting him peel the jacket off and toss it away.

She reaches for his belt. When Oliver leans to kiss her - she gives him sass. Doesn't let his mouth anywhere near her.

She draws her head away with an open mouthed smile - going for the button and zipper; Oliver looks at her amusedly while his pants slack over his hips. And the amusement fades the instant her hands fish into his boxers and he feels her soft fingers connect with his skin. He purses his mouth tightly, eyes rolling shut, unable to help the loud groan that escapes.

 _Saucy little tease._ She has that smug smile plastered on her face when he opens his eyes. And he wants to wipe it off.

Oliver cups the back of her head and yanks her roughly, slamming his mouth over hers, giving her an unforgiving hard kiss; her arm is trapped between their bodies.

He tries to soften the kiss (- because this is Felicity and he doesn't want their first time to be hard and rough, even though, she seems really into this and doesn't seem to care much for his chivalry). She's moaning and tugging on him; he can hear the squelching sound from the friction of her palm ( because - yeah - his cock's been seeping since he first took her). 

He needs to come. Like. Right now.

He's not sure if he should switch their positions and bang her against the door, or whether to do it on the floor, right there. 

And as if that didn't make things complicated enough - the fucking doorbell rings.

And that does it.

(Not the doorbell, but Felicity. )

She jumps in surprise, her hand clenching over him involuntarily and yeah - he pretty much -

\- (So much for his premium fabric pants.)

It might have taken a minute or maybe forever for all he cared. The back of his head hits the door roughly and he comes right there with a pulse of his hips and a loud groan. Felicity's hand freezes over his dick, her eyes go wide. That sassy expression fades and is replaced with panic.

(Yep.)

Felicity's staring down at her hand, still wrapped around him, stunned, with her mouth opening and closing like a fish - like she's not sure what to do next.

He bites back a curse, keeping his mouth pursed in frustration when that damn doorbell rings again.

"Felicity, dear?" They hear Mrs. Fernand's voice out the door.

Felicity drops her head into his shoulder. "Ohmigod, I'm so sorry." She whines.

There's banging on the door. "Dear?"

She keeps giving him apologetic glances and tentatively releases him. Her hand is completely covered with his seed and he's too mindfucked to think.

He grabs the waistband of his pants to keep himself from tripping over them and steps away from the door, his breathing as ragged as his heart's beating furiously. He reaches for the lights (because they were too busy to turn them on) and limps into her apartment. He's still breathing heavily, when he finds a box of tissues on the sideboard that's sitting against a cyan coloured wall. The space between them is small enough for him to stretch out his arm and hand a whole bunch of tissues to her.  

Felicity doesn't look at him when she takes it. The look on her face is murderous. She as good as snarls when the doorbell rings again and she goes to open it.

Oliver takes a look around her hall, as she talks (- no, hisses at -) Mrs. Fernand.

The apartment is all Felicity - as adorable and eclectic as she is.

(He's been there once or twice in the past two years, sure, but he never allowed himself to be curious about her - because he always suspected if he were drawn into her - he'd willingly be lost.

Now's the time to get lost in her - he reckons.)

"It's just that your young man left his bag out here." He hears the old lady say, after what sounded like a curt greeting from Felicity.

(One can't really blame the old woman for being nice, now could they?)

Oliver leans against the wall, finding it within himself to smile amusedly.  He removes his shoes and socks, while Felicity opens the door wide to drag the bag inside. She gives Mrs. Fernand a curt thank you and a goodnight while he tosses his pants aside as well - shaking his head at the wet stains over his boxers. He's unbuttoning his shirt fully, undoing the blue tie while she slams the door, muttering curses at it.

God - she's just adorable.

All the better - he thinks. Now, with no impending emergency between his legs, he can take his time with her.

Felicity's all fussed, face flushed with embarrassment. She's actually ignoring him as she kicks his bag into a corner and then kicks off her shoes, reaching for her earrings. Oliver's eyes follow her as she walks past him towards the sideboard and toss the earrings into a small basket.

He follows her with an affectionate smile and places his hands gently on her smooth shoulders - just holding her like that, rubbing his thumbs over her shoulder muscles until he feels them relax. He eyes the two way zipper of her dress running all the way down the entire length of the dress and smiles with satisfaction when he tugs the top zip down to her waist.

Felicity turns around - her face calm with a little relief thrown in. She rises up on her toes to kiss him - but he draws his head back, raising an eyebrow at her, mischievously.  When she reaches for his shirt lapels, he catches her wrists and forces them down by her side. Confusion flashes across her face and she gives up, drops her heels and leans back against the sideboard.

Oliver...just _looks_ at her. Half-aroused, half confused - hair all tussled...she's sexy in every way imaginable. The sides of her neck and cheek are red with angry swollen furrows. (Made by his unshaven scruff, he reckons. And, on any other day he'd have apologized but Oliver feels a great deal of possessiveness and smugness as the same time. Like he's marked her - in a way.) The red dress calls back to the one memory that dwells with him -

(- the color of her lipstick, the color of her pen - the dazed look in her blue eyes - the incredulous expression on her face when she saw his bullet-ridden laptop - the first time she babbled) - the first time they met.

He slides his hand down the curve of her hip watching her close her eyes and her face having a look of calm enjoyment. He bends his head, reaching for her neck, mouth pressed up against her pulse point, trailing kisses down, to the hollow in her neck - feeling the movement of the smooth skin over her neck against his chin when she gulps or her breath hitches.

Oliver raises his head up to kiss her, slowly - not too lustfully. He reaches for the halter neck. Felicity adjusts so that he can pull the dress off her shoulders while she kisses him. Once her arms are pulled off she reaches behind to undo the zip - but he stops her, holding her hand behind her back. She hums and opens her mouth wider, the tip of her tongue trying to push into his mouth - but Oliver doesn't let her.

A frustrated noise come from her throat.

And that - _that_ angry little grunt-moan she does, suddenly has him on all systems go.

Oliver breaks the kiss.

She makes that noise again - her eyes closed and her mouth twitching - as though she wants more.  He feels her breasts rise up against his chest. She sneaks her hands in through his open shirt and palms him all over. He inhales the scent of her hair while her fingers trace over his scars.

His cock rises half-mast at the caress of her fingers over his wounds.

She's all quiet again. All soft moans and gentle hums.

Oliver leans back, looking into her blue eyes. Keeping his gazed fixed on hers, he tugs the bodice of her dress down. Felicity's pupils dilate and her breath quickens with the slow chaffing of her dress over the swell of her breasts.

Images flash when he sees her small breasts, his mind connecting to memories of the times he'd imagined her when he was alone and - (yes, he's thought of her even when he made love to other women) - and -

( - _and_ her nipples are pink - just like he'd imagined them.)

Something snaps within him. He roughly cups her breast with one hand, grabs her ass with the other, dips his head and takes it into his mouth.

He can hear Felicity's soft cry vibrating from her chest.  Her fingers thread into his hair - her fingernails scratch his scalp as she lets out tiny little gasps with every kiss, lick and nibble. Oliver opens his eyes and looks up at her face. He reaches for the other breast, pets the soft smooth skin and then rubs his thumb over the nipple. She groans - loudly.

He's mesmerized by the sight of her - how silent she's become, how her face gets all screwed up in delight and those lines appear on her forehead. He licks over the slightly wrinkled skin of the areola, loving the feel of the nipple, all hard and erect, pushing right onto the centre of his tongue. He kneads the other breast which fits perfectly into his large palm. He flicks his tongue repeatedly over her nipple, earning little gasp-squeaks from her. He smiles against her, tugging gently on the nipple in his mouth,  rolling  it's other counterpart between his thumb and index - watching her get louder and louder.

She loves it. Audibly.

And he _loves_ the sound of her crying out.

Her breasts are glistening and swollen when he's done. Her face is as red as the dress and her eyes are hazy. Oliver gathers her breasts and nuzzles between them before he sinks to his knees. He clasps behind her knees and runs his hands up. He hitches the dress up as he goes.

He hasn't forgotten. _She waxed there - for him._

Oliver sighs and kisses her thigh as he bunches her dress above her waist. Her panties are black lace. There's a tiny red bow over the waist band that runs from bone to bone across her hips.  

He looks up at her with a small smile. Felicity's looking down at him, her face tense - the corner of her lower lip caught in her teeth - like she's nervous. She looks alluring - though. That dress bunched up all over her midriff, her tits hanging out in the open - nipples turgid and swollen from all the attention he'd given them.

Oliver leans forward, keeping his eyes on her face, and takes the gentle skin just above the edge of the lace, between his teeth. Her abdomen flinches in response. He pushes the dress up, just above her navel, palming her lower stomach.

She's soft all over; not the washboard-flat-abdomen girls he's used to being with have. She has just that little kiss of flab under her skin (- because she has a Big Belly Burger weakness -) and where he doesn't approve of her eating habits and he loves how naturally curvy she feels when he mouths her. He loves the sight of her stomach clenching in response to him.

She slowly relaxes, after a while, arching her waist closer to him. He runs his palm up against the back of her thighs, cupping the swell of her bottom eliciting a moan from her. The lace cuts across her ass cheeks - exposing the bottom parts.

(Oliver used to have a preference for thong. They were all the thing, just before the Queen's Gambit. At the time he chose to be well-versed in women's underwear - mostly how to remove them.)

Oliver draws back - he can't help grit his teeth in satisfaction, imagining her getting all waxed and primped for him. He thinks about her thinking about him when she chose this dainty lace thing.

(He likes these better, he decides.

They're pretty - he'll admit; prettier on her than any other woman he's been with - he'll admit that too.

It is such a pity they have to come off.)

Felicity inhales loudly, when he rolls the waistband down. She clamps her thighs together as he tugs the fabric down - slowly. His upright cock twitches every time he gets a waft of her scent. Her panties skim down her thighs - revealing her in her glabrous beauty. Oliver releases her underwear just at her knees, letting them fall down to her ankles. She steps out of them and sexily kicks them away. He brushes his knuckles over the soft smooth mound.

Smooth and glossy as a baby's bottom - and wet. For him.

Felicity still looks nervous when he looks up at her - but her mouth's also open in anticipation.

She's keeping her thighs shut and he doesn't really feel too bad about it.  He sheds off his shirt, allowing her time to adjust, throws it away and adjusts his weight on his knees. She appears to be in a dilemma, but she braces the edge of the sideboard, and leans her hips against it, chewing on her lower lip.

Oliver lifts her thigh with ease - and hooks her knee over his shoulder. He kisses the inside of her thigh, slowly. A stronger scent - that's all her - fills his nostrils as he makes it to the sensitive skin on the inner aspect of her upper thighs. Felicity lets out little moans - encouraging him.

She's skittish. He senses that this isn't something she'd normally do on a first date or even for a first time. And, he doesn't want this to be anything less than perfect for her. So, he gently pets her. Felicity groans and pushes herself into his touch, panting loudly. He nuzzles the silky skin of the plump mound, breathing the sharp scent in. He closes his eyes and then licks a strip over the small cleft.

Felicity's high pitched "Aah!" and the forward jerk of her pelvis in response, has him on the edge. 

Oliver smiles against her and then steadies her hips as he licks further down. Felicity's legs butterfly out instantly and that's all he needs to grab her other thigh keeping it open and clamps his mouth over her. Felicity cries out again, angling herself upwards against his tongue. She opens out fully for him - and he can hear the sideboard rattle as she adjusts her weight - moaning so loudly that he's only motivated all the more.

(Speechless - maybe. Quiet - not so much. And it pleases him, like no one's business.)

She's practically dripping when he goes to work on her. Her taste fills his mouth as he strokes her with his tongue. Her other thigh keeps flailing as she squirms up against his mouth, and Oliver almost gets distracted when her knee hits his ear, when it occurs to him that she's not too comfortable with this. He opens his eyes, looking up at her as he rubs the flat of his tongue against her clit. Felicity's head is thrown back with her chin jutting out, all he can see is her throat moving furiously as she swallows, and her abdominal muscles dip with her deep breaths.  

He hooks his elbow over the thigh already on his shoulder. And shoves his tongue - deep - inside her.

" _Oliver!_ " She groans loudly, shoving herself down on him. She rolls herself downwards as he thrusts his tongue in and out.

It doesn't escape him that she's become more vocal, much to his satisfaction.

Her thigh comes at his cheekbone again. He grabs it before it hits and forces it to rest on his other shoulder, keeping a steady grip on it - effectively burying his face between her legs,  lifting her pelvis up inadvertently, angling her so his tongue can slide in deeper.

It doesn't take much for her - he realizes with intrigue.

Oliver laps her up and then takes her stiff clit between his teeth, careful of the pressure he applies; he shakes his head from side to side, as much as her quivering thighs will allow. Felicity lets out a sexy whimper. She suddenly grabs his head, her fingers scritching through his scalp.  He catches her waist with one hand and is about to add a finger - when she jerks up at him. Her soles push into his shoulders, toes curl inwards with her toenails scraping on his skin. She shudders against him and begins to throb. Her thighs flap out once as she orgasms over his mouth letting out this sweet long groan that fills his ears.

It's still a pretty sedate orgasm by his definition.

But. It's sexy as fuck.

 

 

 

Felicity's basically a puddle of jelly.

(He's a revelation - this man.

She didn't plan to have full-fledged sex with him tonight. The bikini wax was just cautionary. It was a first date thing for her. She wanted no embarrassments just in case he made it to second base, because they had the meeting the next day and she didn't want to feel all awkward and start rambling randomly while he presented his case to the board of Directors.

Not that she didn't _want_ to do stuff.

All night, Felicity felt privileged when he let her in to his past, in to his pain - to his experiences. She felt honored that when he grinned and laughed and was all carefree Oliver. Not the CEO about to lose his company, not the Arrow, not the Hood, not bad-boy Ollie - just plain Oliver. And she was the one he chose to be that way with.

She thought they'd probably talk a little, maybe kiss - maybe second base. She would have allowed a bit of groping after getting a little turned on watching him laugh out loud at the cabbie's stupid comment. Hence, the bikini wax would come handy.

Made perfect sense to her.

Until he kissed her - and then they made it to third right there on her front porch.

A revelation - hell yes.

Two orgasms - with her dress on and his penis wasn't even involved yet.

 _Geez!_ Talk about a sex-beast. No wonder women fawned all over him.)

Her eyes flutter open as she comes down from the high. Her stupid thighs embarrass her by trembling shamelessly and uncontrollably. Felicity decides that Oliver's face between her legs is a sight she wants to see again - but right now - she wants him inside her.

Oliver leans back. Felicity never imagined that the sight of her cum glistening over his chin could be such a ladyboner and watching him smile, smugly, as he wipes it off...

(Hello! There goes her arousal meter again - hitting hundred).

There's a dull pain from the edge of the sideboard cutting into her ass. Felicity groans in relief when he gently catches her knees, pulls them to his sides. Her eyes follow him as he rises up, sliding his hands up the back of her naked thighs, supporting her.  He makes her wrap her knees around his waist, stroking the small of her back to relax her. She adjusts herself to sit on the sideboard, keeping an eye on the bulge in his boxers.

It felt like a monstrous thing when she held it.

Hmm...

"What are you doing?" He says.  Felicity braces the edges of the sideboards again, pulling her knees, flattening her feet against the sides of his hips. She's sort of opened out for him again, and she notices him glancing there, his eyes darkening.

She gives him a sassy smile, traps the waist band of his boxers between her toes and then shoves them down roughly. The fabric gets caught against his boner, amusing her for some reason - but comes off anyway. His cock is swollen and upright and ...( _ohmyfrackin'stars huge!_ )

She sort of mouths the 'Wow'. He tilts his head at her gives her a sly lopsided smile.

Oh yep - mmhmm - yes. She wanted that. All of that.

Felicity licks her lips, nibbling on her lower lip and looks up at him meaningfully. Oliver shakes his head, giving her an adorable smile, grabs her ankles, stepping forward. His cock rubs against her. He grabs it, probing between her folds and then starts teasing her clit with its head.

Felicity hums. She locks her legs around his hips, rubbing her calves over his ass, looking forward to seeing his glutes in their bare glory later - because yeah - Felicity had a crash course in the admiration of Oliver Queen's yummy body planned tonight - later - but tonight for sure.

"What?" He says, screwing up his eyebrows. He stills.

"Woah motherfucker!" She exclaims. "I just said that out loud, didn't I?"

Oliver's face goes blank when she curses. She doesn't really use traditional expletives around him.

"What?" He says, giving her a wry smile. "The crash course in the admiration of my body bit, or the motherfucker bit?"

She shrugs her mouth, wraps her arms around his shoulders, in a very 'oh well!' manner and then wiggles her eyebrows at him.

She opens wider, letting him rub the length up and down over her. He moans a little as he slides forward. Felicity closes her eyes in delight - the moist hard velvet smooth skin just -

(yeah - no words!)

He runs his hands up and down her thighs and the sensations are just - just so delicious she just...

(yes!)

Oliver's hand comes over her boobs. She arches her chest up as he tweaks her nipples with his thumbs. They go all wrinkly and erect again. Felicity moistens her mouth just as Oliver leans over, slants his mouth against hers. She makes the porn-star noise again as she takes his tongue in and sucks on it. He keeps sliding up and down over her folds, purposefully rubbing over her clit every now with the head, and then, gently tracing the margins of her orifice.

_..whywhywhy is he hesitating?_

He draws back.

"Um." He says, unsurely. "I don't - I didn't...I'll probably have to get my pants..."

Oh right.

Felicity keeps him locked in the loop of her legs and reaches for the drawer of the sideboards. Oliver seems surprised that she keeps a stash of condoms there - but there's history to that. He holds her waist as she reaches for the little cover.

(Her relationships over the last two years have been confined to one-night stands - because hello, sidekicking for the Arrow wasn't exactly a day-job.  Her bedroom's sort of sacred to her. She's always been possessive of it - mainly because privacy was something she lacked growing up in the confines of the tiny home she and her Mom lived in.)

He seems intrigued and amused when she tears it open with her teeth and fiddles with it.

Felicity wants him, inside her - and she wants him _now_.

"Hey." He catches her wrist, giving her this calm look.

"What? Do you think it's too small?" She blurts.   _Oh frrrack! Inappropriate much, Felicity?_

Oliver gives her that look, raising his eyebrow at her - corners of his mouth turning upwards. She wraps her fingers around his length, he closes his eyes. She cannot believe how turned on she is just by touching him. He lets her slide the sheath over him, making this erotic grunting noise.  His blue eyes flutter open when she's done, his pupils are half-dilated.

Oliver just stays still. Felicity doesn't know if he wants her to initiate or whether he's thinking of something else. She braces the sideboard, angling her shoulders in a way that she knows makes her tits seem bigger-ish. She arches her pelvis up, sliding off the surface, poised and ready.

"Are you...?" He starts to say and frowns. "Felicity - you don't have to..." He breaks off.

_What? What.What.What?_

When he sees her distressed face (because him not taking her right now is pretty damned distressing!),  he shakes his head and places his hand on her shoulder.

"Felicity it's just..." He starts to say. He sighs out, long and loud and then says. "You and me. This is just too important to me. I..."

"Oliver!" She snaps. He frowns.

She knows what he wants to say. Because this is Oliver. Sweet, adorable, heart-of-gold, passionate Oliver Queen and he's so much more than what she imagined him to be. He wants to be the good guy, he wants to say nice things to her, and be gentlemanly with all the wining and dining and flowers and dating and sweet, slow lovemaking.

And she appreciates that about him - that he wants to _be_ all that and do all that for _her_.

And she wants _all_ that too.

Just. Not now.

Before she can think of what she's about to say- "Are we gonna fuck now or what?" Comes out.

His jaw drops.

Yet another thing that she never thought would come out her mouth. _Way to go Felicity Smoak,_ she thinks. _Trust your brain to ruin all the sweet and adorable._

Oliver keeps staring at her blankly. Felicity pouts, making apologetic expression.

"I - I  - I -" She stutters.

Oliver's mouth spreads slowly, a wide tantalizing smile that makes her hold her breath.

"Felicity Smoak." He whispers, leaning forward. "You have a dirty mouth."

"Yeah - know." She rambles. "I thought you were go all gentleman again and leave me hangin'."

He narrows his eyes at her. "Mmmhmm." He says (with the end of that noise pitching up, like he does when she disagrees with something he thinks is a fabulous idea.

Also. Only Oliver Queen can make _Mmmhmm_ sound sexy.)

Felicity's about to give him sass but he bites (like goddamn friggin' painfully) bites on her upper lip - and just as she's about to argue, he forcefully makes her bottom out and drives into her -

 - just like that. (Like _Mmmhmm_ and boom!)

Felicity's eyes fly shut, her head falls back, knocking her head against the wall. The sideboard rattles with the action; her body reverberates; she lets out a loud, protractive, ecstatic, high pitched "Oh yes!" against his teeth, as her ladybits instantly throb from the sudden penetration. He's so big - she feels like he's filled her up completely and  -

\- _ohmyfrackin'sexgods!_ It feels so - _so_ good.

Oliver holds himself like that, his front fused up against her and his cock buried inside. He's biting kisses over her chin and along her jaw bone. He licks a long stripe towards the pulse point on her neck and grates his stubble along the crook of her shoulder.

Felicity's cry lingers in her mouth. She's about to thrust up but he - _Argh!_ The darn man - he's got his grip on her waist - so tight - not allowing her to move. Felicity gripes and squirms, trying to get some traction so she can get him to move but he's (- yeah - he's Oliver _'I'm the fucking Arrow'_ Queen, and he's huge - she's officially confirmed that by all dimensions now and - ) she can't get him to budge.

She can feel his ass twitch under her thighs. She can hear his raspy, tense breaths in her ear. He stays that way until she relaxes against him - gives in. Just when Felicity feels her nether regions go lax, he pulls out eliciting another "Oh." from her. He's almost fully out, only just the tip inside and then he rams into her again - making the sideboard rattle against the wall, again.

 _Unbelievable._ There's pain - and pleasure and all the things in between.

Oliver kisses his way up and then licks over the edges of her mouth. He slides his tongue in - giving her that slow sloppy kissing he's so, amazingly good at as he bottoms his hips out and buckles in again.

Felicity's not sure where she's supposed to concentrate. His mouth or his super awesomsauce badass cock that's pumping in and out of her. Its win-win either way because few seconds into it and she's ready to come.  

Oliver hugs her to him - her boobs smashing up against his bare chest. He doesn't let up on her mouth - keeps tormenting her with kisses even when she's moaning desperately. Felicity doesn't want to hold back the orgasm. She fights his hold on her sides, starts matching his thrusts, keeping pace with his rhythm. He breaks the kiss off when she starts moving faster. He tries to steady her again - but she won't let him.

"Felicity..." He says in a hushed voice. "Slow down."

"Why?" She gasps.

He doesn't answer but tries to slow his rhythm. 

He draws his head back and looks at her face - his eyes all glassy and that amused half-smile he gave her when they first met. He slides his hands to the sides of her hip bones and indulges her. Thrusts faster - and harder. She throws her arms around his neck, pulling her closer. Her ass is scraping up and down on the edge but she's numb to it. Her thighs have gone senseless, too. All she feels his _him_ \- inside her.

And she doesn't want it any other way.

She has one of her mini-orgasms - the one where she feels a blinding overpowering sensation. She arches, digging her fingernails into his back and spasms about him, moaning loudly. That seems to egg him on because he bends his knees a bit and comes at her from a different angle - only slightly so - but awesome enough to have her climb Mt. Orgasm again.

Oliver's close to her in every way possible. His lips are on her cheek, his chest is rubbing up and down over her boobs, he's buried so deep inside her that  Felicity pirouettes her hip when she wants to feel him all around. He takes the hint because he rotates his hip just a little - like he's testing her.

She moans loudly, drops her head and bites down on the crook of his neck. He grinds into her, and groans pleasurably while he's at it. Felicity practically etches her fingers into his scalp when he buries his nose into the hollow of her shoulder.

He slows down - suddenly.

And. Felicity has no clue how but that sends her spiraling into her next mini-orgasm.

He takes her in long, slow strokes, grunting into her neck. Every now and then he reaches up to kiss her. It seems to her that he's trying to prolong this - for his pleasure as much as hers (and Felicity's not complaining - two big O's and two mini ones - that's like her quota of orgasms for an average month). Felicity's pretty much satisfied to slow her hips down, she matches him with long, drawn out movements. She kisses his ear, and his cheek, scraping her lips across his scruff until she meets his mouth.

She wins the sloppy kiss  competition, this time - licking the inside of his lips, sucking in his lower lip between her teeth and tugging on it gently with her teeth as her body lines up with his.

(Also - she feels another one coming along.)

"You're quiet, Felicity." He whispers into her mouth. "Say something."

(Oliver telling her she's too quiet is one of things she should record and replay to the whole world.

But maybe this context isn't right for that.)

"It feels really good having you inside me." She says. Oliver's head snaps back. He tenses inside her. He looks at her in a peculiar way - like something's running through his mind. She can feel him throbbing inside. She smiles because she's pretty certain he's got her up the mountain of quivering orgasms again. Oliver palms her ass; he readjusts her position.  

He gives her a naughty, sexy grin. Felicity grazes her teeth against the small mole at the corner of his mouth.

Oliver's close - she can feel him building up because his shoulders tense, he's progressively thrusting into her faster, and his grip tightens on her knee. The wall feels cold when he pushes her back against it. He places his palm on it by the side of her face and pounds into her - deeper.

Felcity's already half-way there. She's making those noises (they're legit moans of pleasure -  but she's worried the sounds are pretty close to porn star noises, and he might think she's faking it - because she's fucking not.

Oh yes. Oliver makes her moan like a goddamn porn star!)

She cranes her neck up as he dips his head and captures her breast and sucks. Felicity jerks forward. He releases her boob only when she's completely charged up and writhing.

"It feels really good for me to be inside you too." He mumbles against her cheek. His tone changes to a low growl, he speaks slowly and determinedly. "And by me, I mean _me_ and by you...I mean _you_."

Oliver comes with three slamming pulses of his hip. In his final thrust - his pubic bones dig into her clit. Felicity vision goes white; she opens her mouth and cries out.

 

 -end-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \---->  
> This ends here, guys. Thank you for all your love.

**Author's Note:**

> \----->  
> Ch. 2 - Inside.  
> 


End file.
